Page 17 of Liars

Raine caught the eye of the bartender, silently signaling he would like her attention when she had a spare moment. “I am. Dad needed me to pick something up.”

“I bet he did,” I grumbled, spinning the quarter on the sleek bar top. “Does this package have long, tan legs and double D’s?”

He messed my hair up, something Raine knew pissed me off. “Funny. You know they’re not supposed to serve you here.”

The coin clattered to the counter. “As if anything in this joint is done by the book. Let’s not pretend.”

“Hey, Camilla.” Raine flashed his dimples at the barely legal girl behind the bar. I’d been right about her name. Unlike me, Raine used his charm to get people to do his bidding. I preferred a more direct, nonsensical approach. Fear also helped.

Like father, like son.

Except, I wanted to be nothing like my father, something I would have to work on. It wasn’t easy not to become the product of what I was raised to be when I had little outside influence other than school. It made me wonder who I would be if we hadn’t lost my mother, a tragedy I desperately tried to block out.

Being married to a man like Donovan Corvo couldn’t have been easy for her, yet she loved him. But loving him was what ended her life. I might have been only thirteen, but I was old enough to wish she had left my father and run off without ever looking back. At least then she’d still be alive, and I wouldn’t be tormented by her death.

One minute I was in the club and the next…

The blood. It was so warm on my fingers, so much thinner than I imagined.

And it flowed quickly from the wounds.

God, it was everywhere. Staining my clothes. Splattered on the cream walls. Soaking into the wood floorboards. I didn’t remember picking up the blade, but it glinted in my grasp, the end coated with fresh blood. It trickled down the hilt onto my hand and down my forearm.

All I could do was stare at it.

I blinked, and Raine watched me, concern in his light-green eyes. The casino’s beeping and whirling returned, the buzzing in my ears fading, taking the images of that night with it, but the pressure in my chest lingered, squeezing.

I slammed back the rest of my drink, coveting more, anything to dull the memory…the pain.

My brothers were all I had. They were the only ones who understood what it was like being a Corvo. What we’d been through…to a point. Even my brothers couldn’t fully understand the shit I’d carried with me. Always. The guilt. The horror. The vivid memories. It sat like a ton of bricks on my back, bearing down on me.

“What can I get you, handsome?” Camilla asked my brother.

Raine’s smile deepened, and I rolled my eyes. “I’ll take whatever he has,” he told her, gesturing to my empty drink.

I held mine up, ice clattering in the glass. “And I’ll take a refill.”

“Kreed.” The warning came out swift and low as did the disapproving pinch of his brows.

I wasn’t in the mood for his sanctimonious bullshit. “Fuck off, Raine. You left. You don’t get to try and pull the big-brother card on me.”

Raine set his phone down on the bar. “As if it ever worked with you.”

I glanced sidelong at him. He looked clean-cut in his button-up shirt rolled to his elbows and khaki pants, but the wrinkle-free attire hid who Raine truly was. His tattoos might not be visible like mine, but they were there, strategically placed on his body. “Never stopped you from trying,” I replied.

“Someone’s got to look out for you.”

I snorted. “I’m doing just fine without you.”

His dark brows lifted. “Are you? If that were true, would you be sitting in the club before noon?”

“How many times have you done the same while living at home?” I countered as Camilla topped off my drink. I hated beer. It tasted like piss.

“Too many to count,” he admitted. “Doesn’t mean it helped.”

“It’s fine. I’ve got it under control.”

“What exactly?”

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